Spiritual Advice
by TakisAngel
Summary: When most nations thought of the Mongol Empire, they pictured a horde of barbarians flooding the homes of the world and plunging their arrows and swords of death. And if it wasn't that, it was always something grisly and horrifying (just ask Iran). But for Tibet, the memory that came up were their "spiritual advice" sessions. TibMongol, a little historical hetalia
1. The First Session

When most nations thought of the Mongol Empire, they pictured a horde of barbarians flooding the homes of the world and plunging their arrows and swords of death. And if it wasn't that, it was always something grisly and horrifying (just ask Iran). But for Tibet, the memory that came up were their "spiritual advice" sessions.

"I can't believe my Khan is making me do this," the most powerful empire the world has ever seen grumbled, shuffling uncomfortable on the exotic couch he was laying on.

"Well, you have been kind of, um, off lately." That was putting it mildly. Munkhbat had been scowling and stabbing things left and right for weeks ever since he came back from his raiding exhibition. Everyone in the entire palace was skittish, and nothing could get done because the servants were too scared that the irritated mongol would find something wrong in their work and stab them with any number of objects, which has already happened at least 5 times already.

"You try getting stabbed twice by Yao and then putting up with his endless complaining!" the man combated, waving his hands in the air and scowling. "The man should just be grateful I can't kill him! I mean, what is he made of? I've tried beheading, water board torture, respiratory failure, blood loss, puncture wounds, at least 15 arrows to the face, and I even tried smashing his head with a rock! He never dies, well not permanently anyway. It is so irritating! And- hey, are you writing this down?!"

Tibet was busy scribbling something down on a piece of paper, before whipping his head up and raising and eyebrow. "Well your Khan needs proof you were actually here right?"

"Bah, he's such a baby. Temujin, now HE was a real Khan. Also, what are the point of these sessions if you don't say anything?"

"My job is to listen and give you spiritual advice," Tibet smiled, cribbling more things done and wondering why the heck he had agreed to the job. This level of, um, let's say disturbance, was way past whatever advice he would give. Not that he would tell Munkhbat that, after all what he doesn't know can't hurt him.

"Spiritual advice? That's stupid. What use do I have for higher powers?! My job is to stab things and not ask questions. If there is an underworld, I'm probably not going to the place the saints go," Munkhbat grunted, and Tibet couldn't agree more.

"So you feel like you are going to face retribution for all the horrible and mindless destruction of lives you have done since you came into existence?"

"Do you have something against me Tibet?"

"No I'm just writing things down. Now, which religion do you prefer?" Tibet pivoted, wisely deciding to change the subject before Munkhbat started going all empire on him.

"Religion? Are you deaf? I don't have one! Except for shamanism, a little bit. But other then that I couldn't care less about what fabrication humans think up to convince themselves that their entire existence ends when they stop drawing breath."

"Hmm," Tibet noted.

"That sounded condescending. Look, I know you're a Buddhist, but I honestly don't care! Did you know there's this religion up north called 'Christianity' that celebrates this demigod by going inside this building and chanting in some weird language about how thankful this demigod existed, and then they eat the demigod's flesh and drink his blood to bring themselves closer to him? One of my prisoners, Ivan, went to do this every week! To this day it still freaks me out. And don't even get me started on the people of the east call 'Islam.'"

"What about buddhism?"

"Er, um, a perfectly fine and sane religion," Munkhbat remarked, and Tibet now felt the mongol was that one pivoting this time. "Anyway, why does it matter? It's not we're ever going to die."

"We're not immortal Munkhbat. We can die," Tibet advised darkly, looking down at his paper and gripping his writing tool.

"Yeah, after all of our people have been killed and we no longer represent anything, but c'mon, how many times has that happened? I can't kill China no matter what I do, so I'm just going to assume that we're all just gonna live forever."

"Haven't you killed personifications before?"

"Not really. They always come back. It might take months, years, or centuries, but eventually they're back."

"What about Persia?" Munkhbat froze at the mention of the name.

"Let's talk about something else." Tibet pursed his lips and wrote something down. Clearly Mongolia was still sensitive about the subject.

"So from what we have gathered here today, you believe that all representations are immortal and that's why you don't like any religions?" Munkhbat opened his mouth the answer, but then closed it. He opened it again, tilted his head for a second, before his furrowed brows turned angry and he threw a pillow at Tibet's face.

"Stop analyzing me you NUTBAG!"


	2. The Track Session

"AND SHOOT!" the commander roared, and the line of warriors released their arrows, the swarm of death smashing into targets and ripping them into pieces. The warriors had no time to savor the feeling of destruction before the commander howled once more, the whole squadron knocking their arrows as a unit, before shooting on command.

This was the training area, the place where new fighters were drilled in the art of death, where the best of the best proved themselves worthy of being true warriors. It was also the place the Mongol Empire was currently receiving his weekly "spiritual advice session" while running full speed around the track, a panting monk running behind him.

"Sir, I think, I think it'd be best, it'd be best if we STOP!" Tshering panted, watching Munkhbat speed up and the sand between them grow ever longer. "I can't run- I can't run that well!

"WHAT?! I CAN'T HEAR YOU! SPEAK UP!" Munkhbat shouted behind him, feeling a grit of satisfaction blossom as he heard his new ball and chain wheeze behind him. His Khan thought he could stick a monk onto his back to tell him his every move? HA! That Khan is so stupid, he cackled inwardly, if he thinks I wouldn't come up with the genius plan to use the fact that Tshering can't run for shit to get away from that Khan's diabolical plot! All I have to do, he reasoned, is wait for Tsering to drop dead from exhaustion and escape!

"I THINK MY HEART IS ABOUT TO EXPLODE!" Tshering screamed, tripping over his robes and running after Munkhbat with his arms outstretched, like he was trying to reach out and grab the warrior, who was running faster around the circular tack with the steady pace of a well built horse. Why is that mongol so freaking FAST, he screamed inwardly, his heart burning and every muscle he had in his legs feeling like it had been set on fire, thrown off a cliff, and chopped into a million pieces by a fisherman. "Once I'm out of this hell hole of a track", he muttered to himself darkly, "Imma destroy that-"

"SORRY TSHERING, I WAS UNAWARE YOU COULDN'T RUN LIKE A MAN!" Munkhbat howled back before snickering even farther away from the exhausted monk.

"Never mind," he growled with bitter resolve in his eyes, "I'm going to kill him right now." He grabbed his sandals mid-run and chucked them as far away as he could, hitting a poor servant in the face with a thud. He then ripped off his robes that were strangling his feet, leaving a pair of pants and little else on the monk. He chucked the robes away as well, making them fly into the face of another servant with a loud smacking sound. Tshering, now only in pants and snarling like a demon out of hell, bolted down the track, coming closer and closer to Mongolia's unsuspecting form. Said mongol casually glanced behind him to see how badly the monk was fairing only to gape in astonishment at the sight of a only-pants-wearing very angry Tshering running towards him with an expression of murder.

"HOLY FUCK!" The mongol dashed away, running so fast he could hardly feel his feet digging into the ground, mind full of a fear like emotion for the first time in decades after seeing the expression of death behind him. He glanced around once more, hoping to see Tshering fallen over in the dirt somewhere, only to meet the face of the devil a couple feet away from him, slowly gaining traction and coming ever closer. Munkhbat bolted once more down the track, running so fast he didn't even know where he was, where the ground was, only knowing that he had to run as far as he can. Against his will, he snuck another look behind him, before seeing the monk a hand's breadth away from him, a calculating look in is hate filled eyes. Oh no, he realized, he's going to jump.

And jump he did, pouncing on Munkhbat like a tiger, crashing into him and smashing the mongol in the floor with a solid thud. The monk kept his fingers on the Mongol Empire's pressure points, digging into them until the warrior hissed in pain, trying to get off his stomach and back on his feet, before Tshering slammed his head into the sand,

"WHAT DID WE LEARN FROM OUR SESSION TODAY?! Tshering roared, digging deeper into Munkhbat's pressure points.

"ARGH! OW JESUS CHRIST THAT HURTS!"

"WHAT DID WE LEARN?!"

"NOT TO FUCK WITH YOU?!"

"TRY AGAIN!"

"OW! THERE IS NO GOD?!"

"CLOSE ENOUGH!" Tshering snarled, letting go off the Mongol Empire who immediately whipped around and gripped his pressure point areas like they would fall apart without him . While the the strongest empire the world has ever seen screamed in pain in the dirt, Tshering walked back into the palace, still only wearing pants, with a triumphant grin on his face. That'll teach him to mess with me.


End file.
